Chapter 5 – Precarious Balance – The Death of Ebert – The Arrival of Hintonbork Politics and the many ideas that are proclaimed these days, everyone is allowed to speak his mind and it is bad to stand so far apart as I do. Zekefrid Karkar, Georg. The President sits a posthumous test, and so does the Republic. At the end of February 1925, Friedrich Ebert died at the age of only 54. The medical diagnosis cited protracted appendicitis leading to peritonitis. The protraction in turn was the consequence of a deep insult that the President had experienced at the hands of a Mark de Bogh Court, which had been processing a libel action that Ebert had brought against a journalist from the Mitter Doychepresse. And so often it concerned an accusation of treason, frequently brought by the political right. The journalist was found guilty, but in its summing up, the court established that as a member of the January strike in 1917, Ebert had himself committed treason, because the strike had weakened the defensive power of the German Reich.
The strikes in the munitions industry, called by the Spartacist Alliance, had been directed above all against the poor food situation and the continuation of the war. At the urging of the workers, Ebert and his Chancellor Philip Scheiderman had led the strike, but had then called for moderation, in line with the views of the SPD, which had not supported the strike. Ebert was enraged by the court's ruling. It placed an extraordinary amount of responsibility on his shoulders, whole-hearted status that he was. A more frivolous character would have dismissed the judge as a far-right lunatic, but Ebert had a nagging sense of dishonour. Depressed and bitter, he neglected the treatment of his inflamed appendix and ultimately failed to survive it. As soon as the news of his death had reached the outside world, something strange happened. The Republic held its breath. Ebert, who had been granted only emergency rations of recognition while in office, received it in abundance after his death. All of a sudden, he struck those left behind as a mighty father without whom the future would have been even more uncertain. Even conservative newspapers saw their country as orphaned.
Now that he was gone, the former working-class pub landlord, the Stocky Little Sadler, mocked as a miscast undistinguished president impersonator, was seen as a stabilising anchor, who had held the Republic together with superhuman powers. The newspapers wove him page-long obituary wreaths, stressing the uncommonly fortunate worthiness, a worthiness that was not exaggerated, that he had added to his natural tact, his innate calm. Knowing that a task lay in his hands had always provided a feeling of complete reassurance, the Fosse-Schutz Seitung wrote. The writer Gerhard Hauptmann called for a lying in state in the Neuier-Kierchien Berlin in order to underline the venerability of the deceased. However, the Kunstwadt Art Guardian of the Republic, Edven Rätzlop, who is responsible for the memorial service, had other ideas. On the 4th of March the coffin was carried in solemn procession from Ebert's house via the Reichstag to Potstama Plutz, with several stops, celebrations and addresses along the way. It then carried on to Heidelberg, his place of birth.
Unexpectedly large crowds lined the streets to bid farewell to Ebert and file past his coffin. At each stop, Rätzlop had organised speeches of extreme simplicity and at the same time of extreme size and weight, a worthy celebration of the Republic for its late saviour and defender, the Berliner Tagablad wrote. For this moment, in which such huge crowds participated, the Republic appeared to have much more support among the population than one might have imagined from normal everyday life. The impressive moving funeral, which added an effective closing touch to the less than brilliant office of the late President, was a quiet triumph for a man who provided the aesthetic accoutrements of the short-lived Weimar Republic from start to finish. Not many people had survived all the confusions and changes of government as intact as Edven Rätzlop, Reichst und Stvard and trained art historian.
The curious-sounding office of art guardian chiefly served the look of the Republic, from the design of the Reich Eagle and the stamps via flags and orders to the organisation of the annual celebrations of the constitution and state funerals. We might mock this today, but for the Young Republic, the aesthetic of the state was not to be underestimated, because it had to provide something that would come even close to gripping the minds of the nation in the way that the pageantry of the German Empire, impelled by Kaiser Wilhelm's hunger for prestige, had done. This was a nearly impossible task. Unlike the German Empire, the sober Republic lacked the transcendent component of God's mercy, the inelogic of which had justified the ceremonial grandeur. But in the case of Ibots Funeral, as with the previous memorial service for the murdered foreign minister Artenau, it was successful. Here Retzlop was able to achieve a gravity that stood comparison with imperial spectacles without sharing their often ludicrous tackiness.
The appraisal of the Schpandau art siteon shows how important it was for the Republic to radiate dignity as well. For the first time, and surprisingly quickly, the German Republic has had to elaborate a ceremony for the burial of the imperial head of state, the task of preserving the dignity of the Reich and the Republic while at the same time avoiding excessive pomp was solved with taste and joy. Anyone who witnessed the preparation of the funeral route, the Reichstag Four Stage, the decoration of the House of Morning and Potstom Station, must admit that the uniform direction by the Reich Künstvärd, Dr. Retzlop, was a great success. The row of large laurel trees all the way down Wilhelm Strasse, the dull black obelisks in front of the House of Morning and in Parisa Plutz, the green-swathed advertising pillars, the black draped candelabras, the forest of black banners by the entrance to the Tjogarten, it all looked serious and solemn without seeming overdone.
At the death of its first president, almost the whole Republic seemed unusually to be at peace. Thanks to its master of ceremony, Retzlop, the young Republic had passed a test of dignity. At the stroke of eleven on the morning of the funeral, public and private traffic was halted for five minutes. The workforces of the big companies also gathered in the streets for a brief reflection. Only Munich University did not comply with the ministerial decree to close for the day, justifying this with reference to the negative response from the student body, which was even less well disposed towards the Republic than was usual among scholarly young people.
The Hero of Tannenberg in Black Red Mustard How would things continue now? The extensive unanimity of those days did not last for long. The greatest concern was to be found abroad. The German newspapers were surprised to quote the obituaries by their British, French and American colleagues. The Americans in particular were concerned that the Horns solens might try to return to power, and Crown Prince Wilhelm might stand for election as Ibert's successor before going on to reintroduce the monarchy. What happened next could easily have been mistaken for this horrific vision.
77-year-old Field Marshal Paul von Hindenburg, close victor on the second round of presidential elections on the 26th of April 1925, actually looked like a substitute Kaiser. Hindenburg, the Hero of Tannenberg, liked to appear in a spiked helmet, picker-howber, and with rows of medals on his chest. His wavy mustache stuck out powerfully over his wide cheeks and gave him the appearance of the perfect Wilhelmine edition of the President. Griseled Hindenburg's career extended deep into Prussia's glorious past. In 1866 he had taken part in the battle of König Kreitz. And in 1888 he had sat vigil by Wilhelm I's body.
The grotesque claim of having lost the war, undefeated in the field, sounded best coming from him. Now he had been democratically elected President, beating the decent lawyer Wilhelm Marx, member of the Catholic Centre Party and candidate of the Republican-inclined Folks' Block, People's Block. The fact that a small, relative majority of citizens had decided in favour of the former head of the Supreme Military Command, an inventor of the stab-in-the-back legend dismayed the Republicans, who had just interpreted the broad sympathy over Ibert's death as an indication of trust in democracy.
Now more than ever, long live the Republic, was the defiant headline on the front of the liberal Bellina Folks' item after the vote count. They tried to console their readers with the calculation that the victor Hindenburg still only represented a minority, since the Communists had split the anti-nationalist front with a candidate of their own, Ernst Tiedemann. Conversely, the right-wing Bellina Berzensaitung was triumphant. The national idea is on the march. Hindenburg is Reich President. Stressing that the campaign, the battle for our nation's soul, had by no means been won. And in passing, the Berzensaitung made it clear what it thought of democracy. It was not about majorities, but about unity. The important thing is to win back not only the majority, not only the two-thirds majority for the nationalist idea, but the unity behind the fatherland that made our nation a giant in 1914.
How nationalists implemented the struggle for the soul of the nation if their powers of persuasion were not sufficient was made apparent on the election day. With cudgels, iron bars, and pistols, their thugs outside voting stations left many people injured and several dead. For his friends on the far right, however, Paul von Hindenburg proved at first to be a disappointment. He did obstruct a number of laws aimed at the partial expropriation of the princely houses, but by and large, the new president was loyal to the democracy that had brought him to power. Hindenburg enjoyed playing the role of president of the entire nation, and to that degree did not act according to his reactionary convictions as the favorites around him had hoped.
The monarchy seemed clearly to be a thing of the past, even for the monarchist Hindenburg. Many contemporaries even associated him with the hope that right-wing conservatives might in due course come to terms with democracy and integrate with the republic. Was it not a good sign that in his swearing-in ceremony Hindenburg was wedged in among the black, red and gold flags of the republic? Black red mustered as the opponents of the republic mocked? A representative of the good old days at the head of the modern republic, Germans in search of harmony interpreted this as a big step in the direction of inner peace and unity.
In the 1928 Reichstag elections, the mood in the country swung back towards the left. The social democrats became the strongest party in government again, and under Chancellor Haman Miller formed a four-party coalition government. From left to right on the political spectrum, these parties were the Social Democratic Party, SPD, German Democratic Party, Deutsche Demokartes-Chapartai, DDP, Centre Bavarian Peoples Party, Eilrich-Chapartai, BVP and German Peoples Party, Deutsche-Folkz-Bartai, DVP. Almost a new addition of the big coalitions of the earliest years. Overall those parties that were loyal to the republic were strengthened, and the German Communist Party, the KPD, had been too. But the most important thing was the anti-Semitic Nationalist German National Peoples Party, the DNVP, had sustained heavy losses, and the still tiny National Socialist German Workers Party, the NSDAP, registered losses as well.
Democracy emerged from the elections, confirmed and re-established. Gustav Strazemann remained foreign minister and visibly continued to ensure continuity. The right-wing menace seemed to have been banished, but the bourgeois Fausichet Saitong, under the headline, the leftward march of the voters summed up the situation with only partial relief. Everywhere in the Reich, voters have opted against the former right-wing government. In the zeal of conflict, they shot beyond the target. They marched leftwards to the cry, never again German Nationalist. And overlapped the centre. Things would become difficult in the longer term, the Fausichet Saitong continued, if the centre was missing.
The Berliner Tagerblatt was more optimistic. The significance of the election for domestic politics lies in the German people's thorough rejection of German Nationalist Demogorgery and ambivalence in a strong new affirmation of the German Republic, whose opponents have been roundly defeated. The struggles to form a government, however, revealed the almost unbridgeable differences between the SPD and its bourgeois coalition partners. When ministers got their act together quite quickly, their parties persistently thwarted their desire for compromise.
The SPD was particularly adept at doing harm to the members of its government. In the dispute over the construction of an armored cruiser in November 1928, SPD MPs required their ministers to vote against a cabinet ruling that they had approved two months previously. The whip made it possible to force ministers to toe the party line and thus sacrifice their credibility and dependability. A similar game developed in the centre, which out of concern for its Catholic profile, shifted further to the right, then was bearable for the viability of the coalition. Schriezmann also had his work cut out, moderating the industrial magnets in his DVP and moving them away from their most worker unfriendly demands. The fragile balance of power in the Reichstag held as long as things were looking economically rosy, but the mood was growing more irritable, the tone more vitriolic and attempts to find common ground were abandoned.
For far too many players in the Republic, the following applied, principles were upheld and compromise scorned. Flag dispute on a Baltic beach The blockades between the government and the parties that constituted it provided welcome arguments for the opponents of democracy. These disagreements illustrated their assertion that the state was the prey of a feuding political caste that was fighting over it like a pack of wild dogs. Prime examples of this are the words that the sculptor Karl Dondorf wrote for the illustrated volume, Germany's Heads of the Present Day on Germany's Future. Which is not quality, but the majority of votes that decides things in Germany. The feud runs deep through parties and hence the parasitical red tape bureaucracy that has settled upon party forces, out of excessive caution. The rise of Germany, which lacks a reckless dictator, is suffering from this fruitless overload.
A telling picture of the political mood was played out on the beaches of the Baltic. The party-dwellers travelled there in the summer and tranched themselves beside their sand castles and demonstrated their political attitudes. They hoisted flags. The adherents of democracy flew the black, red and gold banner. The black, white and red flag in the colours of the old Kaiser Reich were planted by the German nationalists. The two groups viewed each other suspiciously from sand castle to sand castle. All it took was a spark for hatred to explode. Many locals found this awkward. The Reich war flag was too much of a defining presence on the beach. The spar administration of the resort of Arrenshorpe complained in the summer of 1928. Everywhere one looked, black, white and red flapped in the wind. There was clearly a greater need for affirmation on the far right than on the Republican side, which also flew flags in neutral colours for the sake of a peaceful holiday.
The right-wing vacationers were also inclined to steal the black, red and gold flags of the Republic to keep the beach clean. An exasperated Arrenshorpe spar administration complained to one newspaper about the charge of lunatics who fell upon the village with their political petulance in the summer. While for the rest of the year one would find a social democrat sitting next to a German nationalist in the local card game club and neither could understand why on earth they shouldn't be the best of friends. There were opportunities for political feuds everywhere, but there was little dialogue. People limited themselves to flag waving, to the use of symbols and styles, hair, clothes, musical preferences and the choice of daily newspaper were outstanding ways of demonstrating political attitudes.
Conflicts shifted from solid political issues to culture, fashion, lifestyle, all of which also betrayed political attitudes, but which had less obvious connotations and stopped short of making an overt statement. This aspiration to artistic distinction was among the things that made the 1920s into one of the most creative decades of history. The cultural life of the time could be considered as a communicative laboratory of togetherness and opposition, a laboratory of multiplicity which prompted a heyday of diversity but also one of separation and division. While on the one hand Germans were communicating to an unfamiliar degree via phone calls, newspapers and the radio, at the same time the different camps were gruff and silent in their treatment of one another and only eloquent within their own bubbles cut off like the holiday makers behind their sand castles.
The left in so far as it was aware that there were intellectuals outside its own camp, the American historian Walter Lachur wrote, regarded there the rights outpourings as mere gibberish on which no sensible man would waste much time. Conversely the German right regarded the left-wing intelligentsia as a noxious element, more dangerous than gangsters because they were helping to bring about the spiritual murder of an entire nation.
There were however countless people who did not want to be assigned to either of the camps into which the Republic, if they interpreted the signs correctly, had divided itself. They went dancing, strolled around in the crowd and felt lonely. The helpless, thoughtful person who could find no place for himself in the excitable collectives was one of the most common figures in the literature of the time. Not knowing where one belongs, simply going on living, became a burden in view of the many people inspired by the flourishing visions of salvation, politics and the many ideas that are proclaimed these days.
Everyone is allowed to speak his mind, and it is bad to stand so far apart as I do. Zeke Friedrich Krakauer's Dithering Hero Georg complains in the novel of the same name and can still find no refuge for his troubled mind. And in Erech Kestner's novel Fabian, published in 1931, Fabian's friend Labouda writes in his farewell letter, we are standing at a historical turning point, where a new vision of the world must be constituted, everything else is pointless.
As a melancholic, he was armed against everything he claimed, but now he felt like a ridiculous figure, small in a great age that was becoming greater by the day. Since debates around hard political themes were becoming increasingly fruitless, the desire for discussion found release in less clearly occupied territories. There were certainly people who read both the right winger Ernst Junga and the communist Bertolt Brecht, the reactionary elitist Stefan Georga and the left-wing commentator Kour Tohulski, the variety of Weimar culture was enormous, and there were many omnivorous consumers among the public.
Many people were preoccupied with the question of what could bind together a great variety of conflicting attitudes to life. Only recently liberated from the authoritarian order of the Kaiser Reich, they became mystified by the issue of what it is that actually holds free individuals together, what reliably regulates their coexistence and keeps them from constant clashes and collisions.
The city in particular, with its coordinated modes of transport, its opportunities for individualistic self-development on the one hand and the crowd's patterns of motion on the other became a test case for the future viability of the modern age. Traffic, the most important medium of this newly accelerated life, became the focus for people's anxieties and high-flying expectations. With its whirling spirit of cooperation, its written and unwritten rules and its wordless, intuitive accommodations, it became the training ground of modern society, and also its symbol.